


All I See Is Red, Pendragon Red

by loni_meow



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Am I gonna write Smut??? Am I??? Am I???, Arthur Finds Out About Merlin's Magic (Merlin), Blood and Injury, Cuddling & Snuggling, Denial of Feelings, Even if he's dying he's annoying Arthur, Fever Dreams, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gwaine Being Gwaine (Merlin), Holding Hands, Hugs, Hurt, Hurt Merlin (Merlin), Hurt/Comfort, I swear this is cute and wholesome OK??? Dw about the whole... Blood and injury thing...., Kissing, M/M, Merlin is a Little Shit, Merlin's Magic Revealed (Merlin), Neck Kissing, Protective Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Romantic Tension, Sexual Tension, Stabbing, Very sensitive neck
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2021-01-06
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:07:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 16,149
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28203600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loni_meow/pseuds/loni_meow
Summary: He hated hunting. Or well, going on a hunt with Arthur and his knights, he wasn't hunting by himself after all.Being stabbed was definitely not a welcoming alternative plan, though.
Relationships: Knights of the Round Table & Merlin (Merlin), Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 38
Kudos: 274





	1. Chapter 1

Merlin wasn't saying that he disliked spending time with the knights. No, in fact, he liked spending time with them. If it wasn't with these bloody hunts all those times.

He hated hunting. Or well, going on a hunt with Arthur and his knights, he wasn't hunting by himself after all.  
Being stabbed was definitely not a welcoming alternative plan, though.

Merlin hadn't been able to help glancing over at Arthur every once in a while, rolling his eyes at the pretentious smile on the Prince's face, a smile Merlin oh so much desired to wipe right off of there.  
So he wasn't really prepared for that smile to vanish without his own contribution to that, and he didn't like the tension that creeped up into Arthur's body, made him sit so straight that Merlin thought he would explode because of the tension in him.

The Pendragon had stopped his horse, and all of the up to then bantering knights stopped with this motion.  
Normally, Merlin would have expected Gwaine to make some kind of joke on Arthur's behalf. Either that, or ignoring his orders. Something Gwaine-like. But nothing happened, and he had been silent and unmoving.

It was the concerned look on Lancelots face that had concerned Merlin for real. For real real.  
The knights often messed with Merlin, got him all worked up and worried, and sometimes he just couldn't care and then they would get worried - hilarious if Merlin thought about it in a better mood.

But Lancelot always was his way to figure out whether they were just skillfully messing with him or actually tense and ready for some kind of danger approaching. He had so much emotion in his eyes, displayed right in the open for everyone to see.

And when Merlin had looked into those telling eyes, he saw the tensity he could also see in the others' bodies.  
And damn it, that's when at least some kind of fear had felt like it was right to settle in his bones, making his heart race.

"Stay alert, something is off," Arthur then had announced to basically everyone, even though Merlin didn't exactly feel like it could be directed to him. After all, he didn't even have a Gods damned weapon that he could use without possibly being executed for wielding it.

He had been thankful for the way that Percival almost directly came a little closer to Merlin, a hand on his sword, ready to defend him if he happened to become a target.  
He would never openly admit it, but it was right. He felt safe with Percival around him, or at least a lot safer than without him so close.

But even with all the knights being on edge, the attack of the bandits had come at a surprise, especially regarding the amount of people that were charging at them.  
Merlin didn't remember much of the fight, it all just went down so fucking fast.  
They had fought for sure, and Merlin had even tried to use his magic when he was suddenly knocked down from his horse.

He didn't even know how it happened or who did it or whatever - suddenly most of the knights where everywhere but around him, and the only thing Merlin could see were the slight locks of Leon and the vibrant blue eyes of the prince.  
Gwaine, Lancelot, Elyan, Percival - they were somewhere else, possibly still fighting.

His ears had been ringing from the fall, the impact he had taken in, so he had only been able to distantly hear Arthur yelling something, and someone yelling something else back, and then Merlin got up.

His senses had blacked out and thrown themselves out of his mental window, and he tried his best to escape the sword that was all around him, aiming for him, almost getting to him.

Merlin had stumbled through the area like a blind idiot, almost fell over some branch as he tried to escape and just internally begged for someone, someone of the knights, to help him - using magic seemed too reckless and his head was already hurting.

The black haired had whipped his head around to see Arthur surrounded by so, so many bandits, yet still doing better than him.  
He had felt the urge to make sure Arthur was going to be okay - of course he had. The magic he had right in his hand, on his tongue rolled out of him without actual real effort.

Branches had cracked from the trees above them, coincidentally falling in a way that would knock off the most bandits at once, and he had only been able to see the way Arthur's face glazed over with confusion before Merlin's own senses had picked up a threat, the threat at his side - and then pain flooded his every vein.

Like he said, being stabbed was _not_ an alternative he wished for. Definitely not. Never ever would he wish for that, knowing how fate liked to screw him over by actually having the things happen he wished for.

He couldn't even scream, or literally react with anything but an exasperated huff at the immense pain, and it was as if his body was just kind of shutting off, and Merlin couldn't even figure out where he was stabbed.

Seriously, he was so dumbfounded and unable to react that the only thing stopping the attacker from delivering the final blow was the blade that went through him out of nowhere, revealing Elyan behind the bandit as he fell off the horse.  
"Merlin! Why didn't you- oh, _shit_ ," he started out, probably wanting to berate him about not moving aside or doing literally anything until he must have noticed the dumb wound.

"Don't mind me," Merlin slurred, and then furrowed his brows at himself, the way he almost slid off the horse.  
He could feel his blood pulse, and he could sense that it was definitely running out of some kind of wound.  
But pain was truly everywhere, and he slightly blacked away, and his hands found the offending wound basically in an almost natural way.

At his right side was a gaping wound, and he saw the fabric of his clothes get soaked in blood.  
Elyan had said something, but he couldn't comprehend anything anymore. Really, he heard someone else scream his name too, and there was still fighting going on, but nothing wanted to arive in his brain.

Nothing but the way he actually slipped off of the horse, having lost his balance and falling backwards, already unconscious when he hit the merciless ground, his wound still bleeding.

"MERLIN!" Elyan shouted immediately, the loud thud coming from the servant's body hitting the ground worrying him to no end.  
The knight got off his horse and ran over to his friend, defending his lifeless body from another bandit that wanted to attack him.

"Merlin, come on," he hissed, patted against the black haired's cheek, and then went on to press his hands on the deep, almost frightening wound.  
And then suddenly there was a sound behind him, the metallic sound of swords clashing, and he cursed himself for not paying attention in that moment - it was just so... unlike Merlin to actually get hurt. He'd never gotten hurt, he always had managed to escape harm somehow.

It was then that Elyan heard Arthur's voice behind him, and looked around.  
"What happened? Did the idiot fall off his horse?" the prince snarled, only to then realize that there was blood on the hand Elyan was raising to show it to him.  
"He was stabbed," he hissed then, and Arthur looked around immediately, as if he couldn't really hold the glare to the blood.

The prince drew in a breath through his teeth, and then leaned down to Elyan's surprise.  
"Get to the others and tell them to ride back to Camelot. We're not armed enough for so many bandits at once, and Merlin is hurt. I will stay with him," he concluded, and he could basically sense how Elyan protested when he replaced the knight's hand pressing on Merlin's wound with his own.  
"I know I'm the heir to the throne," Arthur threw in, looking at Elyan with honesty and a sense of urge, "but I owe a lot to Merlin. This is my turn."

Arthur saw how the other knight gulped, took a long, quivering breath, but then nodded and stood up.  
Merlin's sight looked bad. It genuinely looked bad. And the prince couldn't help but shudder when he first felt the blood on his palm, but then he arrived back in the moment, saw how the knights were retreating, but still struggling with the bandits, and he was just lucky that no one had really seen them over there.

Normally he would just throw Merlin over his shoulder, but it was important to keep at least some kind of pressure on the wound - so he picked him up right into his arms, against his chest, one of his hands holding Merlin and his wound at the same time.

He was thinking about getting on a horse, but decided against it - the faster they would be on the horse, they would simultaneously be too easy to follow.  
There was still the danger of being caught, and all of this danger made Arthur speed up, running away from the problematic area, Merlin a light weight in his arms.

Suddenly he felt a hand slowly grasp the one on the black haired's wound, a cough coming from the body that he was carrying away, potentially protecting from death.  
"Arthur?" the tiny voice muttered, the fingers cramping, "please... please tell me it's you."  
"It is me," the prince muttered, looking around, but not seeing any bandits as his heart raced crazily.  
There still was no place he felt safe to hide at in sight - so he continued walking. A little slower, though.

Merlin was silent, as if he had dozen off again, and hey - not that Arthur would judge him for it. At least not in this situation.  
The black haired was _warm_ against his own body, and the limp hand was still on his, and holy shit, how was everything about his servant so _warm_ and _comfortable_?

Arthur hissed at those thoughts and tried to concentrate on finding a place they could hide at, somewhere he would still have a good overview of what was happening around them.  
"I don't want to die," Merlin suddenly whimpered, coughing as he cramped in the blonde's arms, tears forming in his eyes, "I can't. I need to protect you."

That got a breathy laugh out of the prince's throat as he shook his head, looking down at the man in his arms, the man that was still bleeding beneath his hands.  
"You don't need to protect me," Arthur said, not even knowing himself if that was meant in a "you're not forced to do anything" kind of way, or in the "you can't do stuff like that, not really" one. No, if he thought about it, the feeling in his chest - as much as he disliked it, it was the first option.

And Merlin stared up at him with those blue, beautifully blue eyes, a little drop of blood on his bottom lip.  
Suppressing the burning urge to be gentle and wipe it away, Arthur looked up again, and to his relief, saw a massive place of bushes and trees and higher grass, almost everything they could use to hide behind.

"Finally," Arthur then muttered, shifting one of his hands a little as he walked around in the area, debating on where he could put Merlin down, where they were the most secure.  
"Arthur."  
" _Merlin_ , shhh," the blonde hushed him, kneeling down with the servant still in his grasp, and only when he was able to see that Merlin wouldn't get more hurt than necessary from being lied down, he did it.

As his hands left the black haired man's body, and only then he realized _how much blood_ actually was there on his hand, and he shivered.  
"How did you do manage to do this to yourself, Merlin," Arthur mumbled, his clean hand now actually reaching for the other man's cheek, yet he flinched away before it actually happened.

He needed to help Merlin and couldn't get distracted.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin was _so_ pale.  
It looked like he was getting worse with every moment Arthur wasted by rummaging through the bag that had still been hanging around Merlin's waist.

He couldn't find what he was searching for, but he _needed to,_ he knew that Merlin had bandages in his bag for emergencies. Almost like he was their mother, telling them to stay safe and all of that.

But now that he was the one unconscious and bleeding, the whole thing was kind of useless, because, as Arthur concluded, the prince was an idiot. And damned he would be if Merlin would've been able to hear that thought.

The blonde helplessly looked up to the black haired, biting his lip as he frowned with upcoming concentration.  
This bag was deeper than it looked, and Arthur was getting frustrated.  
All bad feelings were washed away with relief as he felt a rather soft material touching his fingers, the material Arthur himself had felt so many times, wrapped around him and his wounds.

He pulled the bandage out and sighed again, gazed up to heaven to mentally thank whatever entity was there.  
It was neither damaged, nor was it dirty - even he knew very well that it needed to be as clean as possible, though he never really learned about that topic.

Arthur slowly lifted up Merlin's tunic, making sure he wouldn't touch the wound more than absolutely necessary. He couldn't help but freeze at the sight of the deep wound and the way it was still bleeding rather heavily. He felt a twist in his chest as he realized how much blood was smeared over Merlin's pale abdomen, just from this wound alone.

"Merlin? If you can hear me - this will probably hurt," the prince muttered as he leaned down to wrap his arms around his servant, maneuvering him into some kind of sitting position, slumped over against Arthur.  
At least Merlin was definitely unconscious at the moment.

He still had the tunic up, showing the wound to the outer world, and now that he was sitting up again, the blood actually came out a little faster again - not fast enough, since Arthur immediately settled down the bandage, starting to wrap it around his servant's body, tightening it so the blood would be cut off a little.  
He was being as fast as possible, yet it felt like ages until he finally was able to say that Merlin's wound was protected enough, that he wouldn't die of blood loss. Maybe it was just because he was so _immensely_ stressed about it.

Staying alone with Merlin might not have been the best idea - but he was going to manage this. Somehow. He'd find his way, and when Merlin woke up, he'd probably be able to tell him what to do anyways.

Arthur couldn't help but make sure that his hands were somewhere on Merlin, somehow touching him, making sure that he was able to pull him into safety at whatever situation was to come up. That he was able to feel his warmth, or if it started stopping. Or that he would feel any possible movement coming from his manservant.

Now, it was time to put him back down on the ground, and he carefully leaned him back down, shoving a lot of leaves around them together to lie the head down on them.  
"Alright, now get some rest."  
Arthur knew he was talking to himself, but it felt better like this. It felt better to at least talk to someone, even if it was himself, instead of just being completely silent.

Merlin seemed peaceful, only a slight crease in his brow showing that he wasn't just sleeping - that and the blood on the tunic that Arthur pulled down again.  
And even when he did that, even after pulling the material back down, Merlin shivered violently.

Arthur hissed at it, and his heart hurt again - it really hurt seeing Merlin like this.  
He had seen him poisoned, but not as near to death to this. He had left before it was this bad, and almost died himself.  
The black haired seemed like he was getting cold, he was shivering and even leaning into Arthur's littlest touch.

He still couldn't stop touching his idiotic servant. He couldn't stop gasping at the way Merlin leaned his head into his hand if he cupped his cheek just the slightest. Or how he shuffled around to be the closest to an arm around his waist, whenever Arthur decided that he would be less in pain in another position.

Even if it wasn't much, Arthur decided that he could try to warm Merlin up with his red cape.  
The material was rather rough and a little torn apart from the former fight, but it was _something_ and maybe wrapping him up in it would change a little bit.

Merlin groaned when Arthur touched him with the cape, and he immediately froze, unsure if he should continue or if the idea wasn't the best - it smelled like blood and metal and _knight_ , maybe there was something of _Arthur_ , and it _could_ be disorienting for the black haired.

And then he realized that it was dumb to think like that and continued with his plan of trying to cover his manservant in as much fabric as possible.  
"There, there," Arthur mumbled again, tucking him in a way too gentle motion that was showing so many emotions _he shouldn't be having_ about another man, his friend, his _servant_.

Deciding to stop moving around and potentially make his friend nervous, Arthur took off his armor down to his chainmail so he could lie next to Merlin, touching him just oh so slightly with his body. This way, maybe, just maybe, he could give him some body warmth.

Arthur still had the sword right with him, just in case.

...

Merlin blinked, but his vision wasn't really working with him.   
And then he wanted to gasp at the pain that came back, wanted to say something, but it got all stuck in his throat.  
His side was pulsing, and his head spinning - he blinked again, no change.

Was there a bandage on him, the thing he was feeling mostly on his side? Why was he feeling quite warm?  
Merlin sighed then, snuggling more into whatever was covering him and giving him heat, something that was wrapped around him.

And then he had to blink again, and tears shot into his eyes as he tried to breath steadily. Darkness was around him, and his senses were being overwhelmed.   
Leaves rustled, he heard his heartbeaf and his short breaths, and he suddenly felt more warmth coming from his healthy side.

Merlin closed his eyes, or just stopped doing whatever that blinking was, and instead of trying anything else, he leaned into the warmth on his other side.

Cuddling into whatever it was, stopped his shivering - something he hadn't noticed until then - as more warmth came with the closeness to whatever was there.   
When there was an arm sneaking around his waist, opening up more of the warmth for him, though, Merlin opened his eyes for real.

Maybe he panicked when he saw the chainmail in front of his eyes. Maybe.  
More like, he tensed violently, and then groaned in pain.  
"It's okay," the actual fucking _prince_ that he had just snuggled into said, squeezing his waist as some kind of emphasis, "you're hurt and cold, I'll make an exception. I can't promise I won't tease you with it, though."

Merlin chuckled, and then buried his face in Arthur's chest even though there still was the chainmail, shuffling a little closer.  
 _Fuck it_ , he thought, a yawn escaping him as he felt satisfied with Arthur fully hugging him with one of his arms.  
"'is nice," he muttered, actually cringing at his own, raspy and quiet voice, "thank you."  
"You should sleep," the blonde whispered against the skin of his neck as Merlin only just realized how close they were now, a broad hand stroking his back.

"'m fine like this," the sorcerer sighed then, not even able to feel any shame for what he was saying, the filter he usually had having thrown itself down some cliff by the intensity of his wound.  
"I like this," he slurred almost right after, taking in Arthur's scent, breathing calmly as he heard a quiet gasp coming from the other man.

"What did you just say?" the prince asked him, and Merlin frowned against the warmth, positively drowning in it.  
At first, a part of him just wanted to throw the three words out again, but at least in that moment something spoke up in him, trying to shield him from his own stupidity.

"Nothin'," Merlin mumbled then, and he felt Arthur's huff more than hearing it.  
"Merlin."  
"Uh-huh?"  
There was a moment of silence, before Arthur's voice came in again, his hand still stroking Merlin's back.  
"You're an idiot. A big oaf."  
"'nd you're a dollop head. Though I have to admit, you didn't mess up with th' bandage..."

There was a small chuckle, and Merlin smiled back into the chainmail.  
"Really? I've never done it before."  
"I know, of course you haven't," Merlin teased then, earning a little slap on his back for the comment, "but yes. 's good."

They were silent for a moment, Arthur still insisting on Merlin having to sleep and get rest, while the black haired preferred just being awake, slightly dazed and comfortable at that moment. He'd have dreams in his sleep, and those dreams were just exhausting.

Knowing that this may be the only opportunity he'd ever have to be so close to Arthur, he felt bold enough to bury his nose further within the warmth, grazing the back of his prince's neck with his nose. Just slightly. Just a little.

The shiver that ran down Arthur's body was _delightful_.  
Merlin couldn't help but do it again, move his face a little, and feel that shiver again. And he did, he felt it.  
"Merlin, will you stop that," the growl came, but the black haired didn't exactly feel threatened. There was no edge in Arthur's voice, so he did it again.  
It seemed like the shiver was worse everytime, and he heard the prince's breath hitch just the slightest bit with the third time.

"Someone's neck is sensitive," he mocked then, really happy about the fact that he was already fatally wounded. He knew that he could only go this far because even this prince wouldn't hurt him beyond this.  
"Oh, shut up," Arthur then said, a hint of embarrassment in his voice, but no actual anger or frustration in sight.  
"You're the one that's going to be ridiculed because you cuddled up with your prince."

"But imagine you're in training. And then I come up- I know your weakness!" Merlin snickered, groaning in pain once again as he shifted a little to be more comfortable.   
"I said _shut up._ Seriously Merlin, if you don't keep quiet, I swear I'll make sure you will."

The sorcerer laughed, leaning back a little to stare into Arthur's eyes and tease him even more - but then he saw something that twisted his feelings even more into something that shouldn't be there.

Arthur's cheeks were dusted with a light pink, his hair was tousled as they must have been lying on the ground for a longer time span.  
But Arthur was _blushing. He was blushing at what Merlin had done._

"Woah, I-" he tried, but felt a hand push his head back down, holding it there.  
"Sleep."

Arthur with those flushed cheeks, looking like he had just made out with someone, or as if Merlin doing the thing with his neck - it wasn't possible. It wasn't.  
But the image just didn't want to leave his head, Arthur wouldn't leave his head. After all, he felt Arthur, smelt him, and now he was also seeing him even if he closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry if I did something that made you uncomfortable," he mumbled then, suddenly - and the other man groaned loudly.  
"Merlin, how can you worry about so many things when you should worry about being on the edge to death?"  
"Sleep does sound nice."


	3. Chapter 3

The night was surprisingly peaceful, and even Arthur could put himself to some sleep as Merlin slumbered away in his arms.

The morning though, the morning was worrying.  
Merlin didn't really wake up, but Arthur knew that the day before had been more of an exception, something he wouldn't see again, not that soon.

He thought about getting up, but then again, his and Merlin's legs were mercilessly entangled with each other, on top of the thinner but long arms wrapped around him, the head leaned on his chest.  
If Arthur was actually honest with himself, he would never want to leave this position - he'd much rather have Merlin in his arms forever and stop dealing with anything else.

No duties. No being the future king. Just Arthur and Merlin, all cuddling and everything.  
He blushed even, his body had the audacity to react like that, at the realization what _everything_ would also include.

It was when he couldn't resist letting one of his hands come to Merlin's hair, stroke through it, that he realized how hot the servant's head was, especially the forehead - his cheeks were all flared up and he seemed to be having some kind of chaotic dream.   
All signs of what Arthur knew to be a pretty bad fever - and he couldn't help the shiver running down his spine at the realization that, yes, Merlin was running a fever and Arthur was the only one with him.

He decided to unwrap his manservant from his arms, even managed to get his legs free, before he gently shook him awake at his shoulders. Or at least he tried.   
"Merlin," Arthur whispered, shaking him again, just slightly, "Merlin, wake up."

"Arthur? What's goin' on? I don' feel so good..." the black haired then slurred, blinking furiously, his breathing heavy and shallow.  
"I want you to be awake when I change the bandage. So I know if I hurt you too much," the blonde answered then, going for the bag and the other bandages that were still laying right at the front from his chaotic rummaging the day before.

"Do you think you _can_ stay awake for me?" Arthur then asked gently as he felt Merlin grab his shoulder to get himself up into a sitting position.  
He groaned in obvious pain and bit his lip, tears dwelling in the blue eyes.  
"I guess I can do that," he then said, laughing dryly before he wiped away the tears in his eyes, "but I can't help you, I can barely move."  
"I know, I know. The bandit got you good," the prince replied, glancing up to Merlin's eyes before he lifted his tunic up again.

"You can take it off, that's easier," Merlin commented then, catching Arthur off guard for a moment.  
"Are you sure?"  
"I don't have anything to lose, do I?"  
There was a moment of silence, and another moment of Arthur not doing anything, studying Merlin's every feature to be absolutely sure that this was okay.

Then, he finally took it off, making sure that it'd go fast, maneuvering Merlin's arms out of the fabric, and hurrying all together.  
"That's definitely easier," he said then, gulping at the sight of Merlin's bare upper body - he saw all of it. The blood that was still smeared and not covered by the bandage, and the blood soaked thing itself. But he also saw the rest of his pale skin - the way Merlin had actually build up more muscle than he let on all the time. The little or bigger scars scattered over there, making Arthur's gut twist in the knowledge of "shit, he has been hurt more than you've ever expected".

He caught Merlin looking at his face, his expression unreadable, and the prince couldn't help but, once again, blush like some untouched maiden.  
"That's a lot of scars. Care to explain?" he asked, the tone of his voice showing way more gentleness and caution than what he expected from himself, while he actually started to work at the old bandage, slowly taking it off.  
"Accidents," Merlin muttered, and Arthur was almost tempted to shoot up a glare saying "that's the explanation you think I wanted?" before he added, "you know I'm clumsy. Sometimes you could think that my clumsiness will kill me one day."

"Those are not accidents, they are tactical strikes," Arthur insisted then, done taking the bandage off of the wound, putting it aside.  
"Tell me the truth."  
"Er, most of them are magic induced. That's why they didn't bleed, but rather scarred right away," Merlin explained, "so no one really knew."

The blonde looked up with a frown as his hands found a little tissue, using it to wipe the worst of the blood off before settling the new bandage to the place it'll stay at.   
"I guess I've taken the blow for you way more often than expected," the black haired concluded, gulping heavily as he looked away, just far away from the prince.

"You guess?" Arthur repeated, flinching almost at the sight of the white material already reddening a little as he started to wrap it around Merlin's body, "tell me more."   
"I'd rather not," his servant muttered then, blinking rapidly when his eyes met Arthur's again.   
Because there was this steady, yet warm glare, almost inviting him to spill everything he ever had to say - everything.

Merlin still felt those hands on his body, and no matter how cold it may be around them, he felt heated just by that contact.  
Seeing Arthur finish up the bandage made his heart sink - Merlin desperately wanted him to not stop touching him, but asking for it - actually asking, all by himself, that would honestly be even worse.

"Arthur," he slurred, surprised on how much his voice had grown unsteady with realizations dawning upon him.  
"Yes, Merlin?" he asked, picking the tunic back up again, starting to maneuver the sorcerer back into the known fabric.  
"If I turned out to be a sorcerer, what would you do?"  
He wanted to take it back, to delete the fact that he had ever said this, that those words had left his mouth - I am and sorcerer in one sentence, in one question, and with such a desperation.

" _What_ -"  
"No, no! Don't worry," Merlin jumped in, waving his hands in front of Arthur's face to stop him, what ended in the prince grabbing his wrist.  
Even if he had just started slumbering back away again, the pain and the heat of the fever swallowing him, he felt jolted awake right then.  
"I just... look, the wound is pretty bad, and I might die. I just want to know... How far you would go for me. See if we have to do something about that."  
He grinned as if he hadn't just basically revealed himself to be a sorcerer - as if his words hadn't been clear.

When Arthur still didn't say anything, but still held him at his wrist, absently staring into Merlin's eyes, he added, "you never really let on... how important the friendship is for you. If it even _truly_ is one. Sometimes you tell me things like-... you call me the only one you can really trust, a loyal friend, but then on other days..."  
"I wouldn't want you to die," Arthur then suddenly said, letting go of Merlin's hand but not of his gaze, instead holding it hard and steady.

"So, I wouldn't execute you."  
There was suspicion, but no hard feelings - more like he was suspecting what really was being Merlin asking him that question, and it sent one of the worst shivers he had ever felt down the sorcerer's spine.

The black haired couldn't say anything, and Arthur didn't say anything either. He was done getting Merlin treated as much as possible and had stood up, wandering around, gathering some little branches for a fire since he was pretty sure that the bandits were no longer too close.

There was a tense silence between the two men, even if Merlin occasionally felt a snarky remark about Arthur finally doing things by his own coming to his lips. He then tended to trying to fall asleep again - on one hand, to escape the conversation, on the other hand, just to get some damned rest.

No matter how awake he had felt just a few moments prior when his tension came to a peak, the moment he was cuddled into the cape and had closed his eyes, Merlin couldn't help but successfully drift off into blackness.

°°°°°°°°°°°°°°

Arthur went rigid on the inside, the flames warm under his freezing hands, the only thing keeping him calm.

The thing with Merlin wouldn't leave him. At any moment where he thought it was gone, it just came back, with the same intensity as before.  
The question... The question was a good one, there was no doubt for that.

Because, yes, what _would_ Arthur do if Merlin ended up being a sorcerer?  
It would mean that the enemy had been with them all this time. And on top of that, said enemy had gotten a position as his manservant. Right at the prince's side.

He had a duty to fulfill. Laws to follow. A kingdom to keep safe. But if it was Merlin, _if_ Merlin was a sorcerer, maybe he could be something like an exception. A _good_ sorcerer between the bad?  
Could he trust the man? Could he, even if he was a sorcerer and Arthur knew about it, trust Merlin?

If he turned out to be a sorcerer, then there were all these questions - why had he saved his life, and that not only once? Hell, the boy had swallowed down poison for him.  
Then there was the question - why did he just think about it _that_ much?

A part of his mind knew why he thought of it. But the biggest part of his mind didn't even want to have that come close to his direct conscience.  
His servant was sleeping next to the fire - Arthur had put him there after he dozed off, and sat down right beside him.

He couldn't help himself, and felt sure that Merlin was fast asleep, so he let his hand reach down, gently touching the soft, black hair, petting through it.  
He did flinch though, when Merlin suddenly sighed, leaning his head up, more into the touch.  
Telling himself that Arthur might just be easing the servant's journey through the fever dreams, helping him get some actual rest, he kept basically petting him.

"I feel like you actually confessed," he began talking, Merlin shuffling a little in his sleep, almost as if he was answering.  
"And I don't know what to feel about that," Arthur added, shaking his head at that, "you basically confessed to having magic. And here I am, and I can't stop touching you..."

He was thrashing around a little, so the blonde sighed and grabbed Merlin, positioning his head on his lap instead of the ground. Of course only to help him, only to make sure he wouldn't hurt his stupid, stubborn head during one of these dreams.

Nevertheless, the moment he had settled his servant, his hasty movements stilled, though - Merlin took a deep breath, and curled up against Arthur, just coming closer and closer in general.  
"I can't tell if you like this or just need some warmth right now," the prince then said, chuckling then as his hand traveled down from the hair to the lovely face of his manservant, cupping his cheek.

"Don't worry, I don't know either."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaaa merry Christmas guys!!!! I hope y'all are having an amazing time! My family has been exhausting, so I thought I could just write a little.


	4. Chapter 4

The next time he woke Merlin up was some hours later when he lifted up his tunic again and saw how bad the bandage looked already.

The fire was still going, Arthur had made sure of that, and Merlin also was still in his lap with his head when he began slightly patting on his cheek.  
"Merlin..." he muttered quietly, yet firm, and close to the ears of his manservant.

He patted his cheek again, and felt the black haired stir, groaning unhappily.  
"What- Arthur? Where am I?" the small voice came, a hand reaching out to what was around him, ending up grabbing Arthur by the chainmail on his right.  
"Well, your head is in my lap, does that help you with your orientation?" the prince answered, teasing Merlin a little, yet didn't expect him to shoot up the way he did, his eyes carrying the most shocked and embarrassed expression that he had ever seen on Merlin.

He moaned in pain right away, but stopped touching Arthur all together and flushed almost immediately.  
"Uh, well, sorry," he stuttered then, holding his side as he only then got the courage to look up to Arthur's face.

The blond couldn't help it, but he had to chuckle, shaking his head as he put a hand on the back of Merlin's head.  
"Honestly, that's what you're embarrassed about? There are so many more embarrassing things you've done."  
Merlin blushed even more, and Arthur found that he liked the sight, that it did something to him, that he wanted to see it more, touch his reddened cheeks...

"But I... your lap- ah, nevermind."  
He looked away, seemingly attempting to hide his embarrassment from Arthur now.

Arthur's sanity maybe just snapped at the sight of that, and he reached out with one hand, putting it at his servant's chin, stroking his face with the thumb before he guided Merlin's head back around to him.  
His heart was racing at the glare he was met with, the fact that he was holding him in this way without any further purpose, just because he had the urge to do so.

"What are you doing?" Merlin asked cautiously, in such a quiet manner that Arthur felt like he maybe wanted those touches as well.   
The blond shook his head in a silent 'I don't know', his hand traveling up to Merlin's cheek, cupping it as the servant himself leaned into the touch.

He was so warm, and his skin was soft, and Arthur felt like he was losing himself in Merlin's presence.  
"Arthur?" he tried again, and he saw that there was something like worry in those blue eyes.  
"Are you okay?"  
"I'm okay, why wouldn't I be?" the prince returned, gulping hard as he scowled, Merlin averting his gaze in another wave of shame.

"Uhm, I thought you might miss Gwen, so you... I just want to make sure that you know you're touching _me_."  
"I'm not delusional, Merlin," Arthur cut him off as he wanted to start for a new sentence, the black haired staring right back at him again.  
"That's not what I-"  
"I know who I am touching."

Merlin seemingly couldn't say anything, and Arthur took the opportunity to lazily let his hand wander a little, just slightly brushing the tip of Merlin's ear with his fingers.

This time, Merlin was the one who shivered in a way that Arthur could only find delightful, touching the tip of his ear once again, the shiver being worse, and the red color creeping back into the face that it had mostly left.

"Arthur-"  
"There we go," he chuckled, staring provocatively as he took a stronger hold of the sensitive point, hearing Merlin's breath hitch, a hand being slapped on the servant's traitorous mouth immediately after that, Merlin's own hand.   
His eyes were a little dazed, more than they generally were due to the wound.

"I found _your_ weakness. Or one of yours," he teased again as he felt how the blushing and its warmth even reached the tip of the ear he was assaulting.  
"Sire, this is entirely inappropri- I'm your servant, I'm not-" Merlin tried through the hand on his mouth, eyes falling shut, tension creeping up in his body as if he was scared of what would happen if Arthur touched him again.

The prince let go of his manservant, only to shift a little and put both of his hands on the rather small shoulders, making sure that he was looking right at Merlin's face.   
No matter how delightful that just felt, how much Arthur wanted to continue touching him there, maybe even grasping it more or running his tongue over it - no matter what he wanted to do, he had something to discuss.   
Something for Merlin and him to get clear.   
"Please, please be honest with me, Merlin," he started and paused, gulping heavily.   
"What do you mean, sire, I-"  
"No. No 'sire'. Not now."

The black haired seemed taken aback, and suddenly realization dawned in his gaze.  
"Merlin. I'm begging you to be honest with me. Are you a sorcerer?"   
The tension that held up his friend's body, the tears that shot up into his eyes, all of this, the uneasiness, everything - it already gave him the answer Arthur never wanted to hear.

"Please don't do this," Merlin begged, but he knew that he had lost, knew that it was over now.  
"I will not hurt you. Just tell me the truth. Please," the prince begged back, still squeezing the other's shoulders, staring him in the eyes as tears rolled out of them.   
"But you'll have to hurt me," he whined and looked away, "because I _am_ a sorcerer, I _do_ have magic, and you can't betray your fath-"   
"Shhh, Merlin. Calm down, it's okay. It's okay," he said then, his hands caressing the tense muscles underneath them.  
"I've thought about this for a while now. I trust you. You wouldn't hurt me - you wouldn't. Is that right? You wouldn't."

Merlin's eyes were still locked with Arthur's as he put his own hands on top of the broad, warming ones.   
"Never. I'd never hurt you in any way. Everything, I do it all for you. My magic is yours, Arthur."  
The blond seemed caught off guard, his mouth suddenly running so very dry from the dedication that was seeping through Merlin's voice, his grasp, his glare.

He was still crying, and Arthur slid his fingers off the servant's shoulder, lifting them up to cup Merlin's cheeks and wipe away the tears.   
"Now, stop crying, you little girl."  
The sorcerer laughed then, leaning further into the touch.   
"I'm not a threat," he muttered, his eyes flying shut as he started to zone off again, "I'm not... a threat... to..."   
"Hey, hey. Stay awake. Your bandage needs to be changed."

"Just... do it the way you-"  
"Merlin."  
The black haired froze in his tracks after he had just tried to let himself drift off, responding to the demand of his prince, the future king.  
It was almost weird that he didn't just go to sleep anyways.  
Arthur just wanted his banter back, but there was the boy, sweating and bleeding and struggling, and his biggest secret had just been revealed - he could see why Merlin would be careful now.

The changing of the bandage could've went faster this time, both of them kind of working as a team then, Arthur learning how he could get on with it the best. He did stop before putting the new bandage back on.   
"Look, what do you think about the idea of us searching for some water? So now the wound can get some air and we'll find something to wash the dried blood off," Arthur suggested, taking the waterskin and holding it up, "this thing is as empty as it gets."

Merlin chuckled and leaned against Arthur, shivering at his bare upper body still being exposed to the rather cold air.  
"Or can you fill it up?" the prince then asked gently, accepting Merlin's closeness, putting the empty waterskin into the sorcerer's hands, "with magic, you know."

"I... I think I'm too weak," his manservant then said, nevertheless trying to chant a spell, the ancient language sending shivers down Arthur's spine he hoped Merlin would notice.   
But nothing happened to his eyes, and it was some kind of closure, to know that yes, he couldn't do it right then and there.

"That's okay. Come on. I'll carry you, and take the important stuff with us."   
At this the black haired laughed, leaning back as he shook his head, "what, like over your shoulder?"  
He had been teasing, yet felt unsure right after, not seeing the prince's reaction since he was already packing.

"No, like this," came back, the same reading tone, yet he was sincere as he bowed down, placing his hands on Merlin's body to lift him up.   
In the same way he would lift up a bride.

The sorcerer blushed madly and coughed, biting his lip.  
"Oh."  
"Oh?"  
"Am I not too-"  
"Shut up right there. You're way too light, actually! I can't use a scrawny manservant," Arthur chimed in, giving Merlin a light slap on something, somewhere on his body, making him giggle.  
He couldn't deny the heat shooting up to his head. The way his ears were warming up, all of that; and it was just because he felt one of Arthur's warm, rough hands on his upper body, his bare back. Whenever his hand shifted just a little, Merlin shivered and blushed more, and then, when it happened again, even more.

"Do you hear that? I think there's a lake near by."  
Merlin peaked up, closing his eyes as he focused on his ears, tried to focus on everything but his dumb heart pounding, his head buzzing.  
"I think I hear it, too," he mumbled then, the light splashing sound of water running by echoing through the forest.

"I can... normally, I can... look ahead," the sorcerer tried to explain, waving his hands to where the noises came from like some idiot, "with magic."  
"Of course you can." Arthur smiled at him, and that was when he realized that he meant that in an actually non teasing way.

"You're not feeling worse when I'm carrying you, right? I'm not squeezing any area that makes it worse?"  
"No, no, no... I feel like I'm floating, Arthur. Your arms are like water holding me up to breathe," Merlin then muttered, his gaze losing track of everything, just kind of being everywhere and nowhere at the same time.

Arthur felt flustered, Merlin could even hear his heart thumping quicker after he had said that.  
It didn't surprise him when the prince evaded what they had just talked about by saying something about the lake, and well, actually getting there.

"Perfect, that wasn't too difficult. Are you still there?"   
"I'm awake, I'm awake," Merlin slurred out, wiping his eyes as he had realized how much he even cuddled into his prince. Once again.

His wound stung when Arthur carefully sat him down, leaned against another tree with his still bare back, the rough surface tickling him almost as he was able to watch the blond and see whatever he was doing.   
"Why didn't you leave me behind? Why did _you_ stay behind... Gwaine and Lancelot, they would have-"

"Even though I didn't know about the times you probably have already saved me with magic, I knew that without you, I wouldn't have survived some incidents," Arthur interrupts, looking back to Merlin as he filled the waterskin with the fresh lake water, "it's just common decency to repay the favor from time to time."

"I'm your servant, of course I-"  
"You're more than that," the prince muttered, and wondered why Merlin's eyes widened - not in the fear way, no, it was more like confusion, wonder - as he cleared his throat, "you're a sorcerer. You could be so much more."

Merlin's glare fell, but then another smile lit up his features.  
"You're still a clotpole."


	5. Chapter 5

Arthur stared at Merlin, rolling his eyes after a short moment, coming back to where he was sitting.

"I'm not the one who got stabbed," he clapped back, pulling out a weird looking cloth that Merlin remembered packing with all the other stuff.  
"I was saving your stubborn fat little arse with my magic when that happened."  
"I'm not fat!" Arthur protested like a child, wettening the cloth as he rolled his eyes, Merlin laughing right at his face.

"No, but your arse is," the sorcerer threw back right at his face again, hissing when he felt the cold, wet material touch his stomach, wiping some dried blood away as he tensed underneath the whole friction.  
His muscles didn't want to calm down, not until Arthur placed the free hand on the bare skin, warming it back up.

Merlin didn't even try to conceal the sigh leaving his lips, the way he melted into the others hand, concentrating on the gentle feeling rather than the stinging one that came with the cloth closing in on his wound.  
"Take my hand," the Pendragon said then, holding the free one out to his manservant as he stopped, "this will hurt."

Merlin wanted to tease him, tell him how he would definitely never let him live that down, but he knew that it was the truth, and that he should accept the offer no matter how many funny jokes he could get out of it.

He took the offered hand, bracing for the contact.  
It burned. And then it was so painful, that it shot tears up Merlin's eyes as he was hissing and pressing the prince's hand even stronger. He let the tears roam free as it went on, and felt dizziness take a strong hold of him.

"Arthur," he whimpered, trying to get him to stop, the pain getting so bad that it activated his magic - reactivated it.  
But then he wiped away blood in the center of the whole thing, still holding Merlin's hand that crushed him almost, before he hit a peticular painful spot.

He cried out at the burning and stinging and everything that was just so much, so painful, something cracking behind him as he felt his eyes flash.   
It was the tree. He was wrecking the tree, his magic was doing that. At least it was doing that until suddenly, another hand shot up, touching Merlin's neck to push him forwards.

"Shhh, Shhh, I'm sorry, it's okay," Arthur muttered, as the sorcerer just suddenly realized that his forehead was leaned against his companion's, his body tightly hold in a welcoming embrace. A tight embrace that yet didn't touch his unpleasant wound.   
"N-No," Merlin whispered, realizing what just happened, "I swear Arthur, I swear - I have my magic under control, it's just the pain - please, I would never hurt anyone, I wouldn't, not even out of con-"

Arthur shushed him again, still holding him carefully.  
"I know that. I know. I'm not stupid," he teased then, but his voice dropped to a more genuine tune, "don't be afraid of me. _Are_ you afraid? About me knowing?"

Merlin shivered about the loss of warmth when Arthur leaned back a little, getting out a new bandage as he waited for the sorcerer's answer, preparing the whole procedure, realizing how more easy it was getting.   
"I feel like I'm walking on thin ice," the confession came, and the desperation hit closer to home than Arthur himself had expected.  
"I know your view on magic, and if I happen to do anything that proves it right-"  
"For the love of God, _Merlin_."

Arthur started wrapping the bandage around him as he leaned back so he could see, shaking his head as he couldn't help but tear up a little himself.  
"All this time - I'm not that stupid. I know that there never is just black and white. All this time, I've been waiting for the proof to that assumption. The thing you are _proving_ , Merlin, is that I _was_ _right_ , just a different right than what _you_ think is that right for me," he explained, finishing the bandage up before he put his hands on Merlin's once again stiff shoulders.

He expected anything to happen, anything. That Merlin was surprised, that he couldn't understand it quite easily - he hoped for a smile, for him to relax, knowing that it was fine. But instead, more tears came into the blue eyes, and he couldn't suppress a lengthy sob, pressing his head face first into Arthur's chest, not minding the chainmail.

Merlin was still reluctant to touch him, though Arthur concluded that this might also be because of their statuses, or the way he had rejected hugs from Merlin before.  
But Arthur, at least in that moment, wasn't reluctant to touch Merlin, so he wrapped his arms around him again, waiting for an explanation, yet not forcing it.

"I've always wanted for you to know all of me. So I can finally talk to someone about what I'm doing. The amount of dreams I had, explaining magic to y-" Merlin started elaborating then, and Arthur sighed at the first words came in, patting the sorcerer on the back.  
When it came to the part he broke himself off at, the prince felt warmth grab a hold of him, of his _heart_ , because of the implication he got from that.

Merlin leaned back, leaning out of the grasp as Arthur let him, the blush that is settled on his cheeks once again making the Pendragon unable to look away.   
"You would help me understand it all? Everything about magic I don't know?" Arthur asked quietly, hesitant.   
"As long as you'd want me to - yes."  
He laughed at that, not in the ridiculing way - no, in the nice way, the appreciation visible on him.

"You know, this all feels like a dream, an alternative reality," Merlin muttered then, his eyes closing for a moment before he shook himself awake again.   
"You're so nice and sweet. And calm. Not such a donkey. I mean, your arse is still fat, but..." the black haired started, slurring off from time to time, before he went fully unconscious at the end of it; Arthur let it happen, he knew the man needed some more rest.

Nevertheless, what Merlin said made him frown, and blush just a little bit.   
So nice and sweet - he couldn't quite comprehend that Merlin had just said that. On the other side, he was almost passed out, so maybe... No. No, he was himself, he went out of his way to call him a donkey and insult his arse.

That meant that Merlin meant it.   
And this fact had Arthur feeling way too fuzzy. He had been distancing himself from his manservant, as it was proper, but he couldn't quite help it when the man himself inserted himself in Arthur's every life decision.

Merlin was loyal, and if he let him be, a good friend. Now that they had already crossed something - was it the master-servant kind of relationship, the distance?- Arthur didn't quite feel so reluctant anymore.

Carrying the unconscious Merlin and their supplies back happened faster now that he only concentrated on that, while still having an eye open to the surroundings.  
Nothing happened though, so he was still feeling calm as he settled his manservant down, searching for his tunic that they left there.

Though, Arthur momentarily decided, it would be better if they manage to clean the tunic on the next day before Merlin puts it back on - there was dried blood on it, and it smelled like that, Arthur supposed. Nothing more worrying than the smell of blood on your tunic.   
The prince nodded to himself as he took off his chainmail, deciding that making sure Merlin would feel warm was above safety right now.

Apparently, he was so busy getting out of that chainmail that he didn't realize when Merlin stirred again, coughing slightly as he arose from unconsciousness.  
The small "Arthur?" coming from him caught the blond off guard and he flinched just the slightest, finally fitting the dumb thing aside.

He then had to smile though as a little joke came to his mind, "I know, my arse is fat."  
"Especially from this angle," the black haired then said, tensing as he shifted a little, laughing then.  
This what was Arthur had expected - he does know Merlin very well after all.

"I decided that we should wash the clothes you aren't wearing tomorrow before you'll put them back on," he began explaining on a more serious note, Merlin getting the hint immediately.  
Arthur picked up the cape they had used as a blanket and put it over the sorcerer again, tucking him into it, or trying to do so.   
He couldn't quite find the words to say that he planned for cuddling with the other man again, and he was glad when said other man stopped his hands mid-action.

"Won't you come?" Merlin asked so quietly and innocent, lifting up the blanket, his eyebrows raised.   
"Oh yeah, that's why I got out of the chainmail, it's warmer and more comfortable like that," Arthur managed to say nevertheless, clearing his throat when the moment actually came, and Merlin actually held the cape up enough for his prince to slip under it with him.

When Arthur did that, trying to keep himself and his thoughts together, he felt Merlin tense first as their shoulders inevitably touched - something the prince commented with a frown.  
"Sorry. Don't mind that," Merlin immediately tried to wave it of, shifting a little closer to the blond, his glare locked down at his chest, not daring to look into his eyes.  
"I just thought I was dreaming. But it never feels real like this when I dream," he elaborated, Arthur's hand sneaking into his hair, curling it around his fingers a little, encouraging him to go on, "in my dreams I'm never able to reach you despite being so close."

Arthur leaned closer then, wrapping the hand that was already on Merlin around his body, caressing the bare skin he met there. It evicted a slight shiver and goosebumps over the skin of his manservant, who blushed immediately.  
He let Merlin bury his head in his neck again, despite the fact that he would probably tease him again - and he nuzzled the sight of Merlin's neck himself.

"You dream of me?" the prince muttered, the other hand finding its place too as Merlin scooted closer, the coldness of his skin seeping through the clothes.  
Arthur felt Merlin's skin underneath his fingertips, felt the black haired react to every little touch.  
"You're still sure you're touching me? The way you're doing it could quickly be mistaken to be.. more than what you're in for," the sorcerer's question came without anything in it to answer the question Arthur had asked - but he didn't retreat his hand, no, instead he really had to find all of his self control and not kiss Merlin's neck, forward to his throat, follow his jawline, kissing his cheek, his forehead, his nose, his-

 _No,_ Arthur stopped himself.  
This wasn't... He wasn't supposed to want this. But he couldn't help himself, not with Merlin now glaring up at him with those blue eyes, the widely blown pupils.  
"How do you know what I am in for?" he asked, and flinched about the flirtatious tone on the inside, watching Merlin's eyes widen even more, before he leaned back into Arthur, cuddling into him, fitting so perfectly in his arms, and also hiding the embarrassment.

"I dream of you quite often."  
The lazy, small voice surprised Arthur, if he was honest. He didn't think that Merlin was going to talk for that day anymore, now after the weird ass sentence his master had just dropped on him.  
"About y' holdin' me like this," he slurred further on, pressing so close to Arthur that there wasn't any space between them left.  
"Don' ev'r stop..."  
"I won't, Merlin," he whispered, one hand in the smooth, black hair again, breathing in the usual scent of his servant, the scent that slowly but surely felt like home.  
"I won't."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy new year guys!!!! I hope y'all will have an amazing year!

That morning, Merlin woke up first.  
For the first time since he was so fatally stabbed, he was awake when Arthur wasn't.

And he was yearning for some water, his throat hoarse and dry as his whole body shook with the fever, cold and hot at once. If it wasn't for Arthur's offer to warm him like this, he would be more miserable than he already was, that was sure.  
But now here he was, the strong, broad arms wrapped around him, a shallow breath meeting the skin on his neck from time to time, Merlin being able to feel Arthur's chest rising and falling with every breath, right against his own.

He was able to stretch his arm a little, the arm on the unharmed side, and could get a hold on the waterskin - Arthur must have thought about this and put it into a reasonable distance away from them.  
Just so they wouldn't kick it or anything, but so that even Merlin could still reach it.  
He opened the thing and chugged some of the water down, feeling like it was the best thing of his life as it ran down the agonizing heat and dryness.

He shuddered as he closed the lid and put it away again, this whole ordeal making him feel all weird and dizzy all over again.  
So Merlin decided to just snuggle back into Arthur, closing his eyes as he tried to stop his head from spinning so damn much.   
He blinked a few times, his hand cramping where he grabbed the fabric of his prince's clothes.

But just staring at the monotone color he had in front of his eyes, something that made him lose focus, he leaned back a little to glare at his future king, his softened features.

The first rays of sunshine hit the forest, and it hit both of them, giving Arthur's beautiful blond hair a touch of gold.  
Merlin couldn't help but run his hand through the golden hair, feeling the softness between his fingers. It was even softer than he had ever thought - no matter how often Merlin undressed and dressed him, how much he bathed him, no matter what, he only just now realized how nice it was to just run his fingers through Arthur's hair.

He just prayed that the man wouldn't wake up and see him like that - gaping at Arthur, basically petting him.  
He came closer, watching Arthur's features, how he breathed, his lips slightly parted.  
Merlin blushed when he reached out, just slightly, to touch what he had never though he'd ever touch.

Arthur's lips were soft and slightly chapped at the same time - and Merlin sighed, leaning back again.  
He found that he didn't want to retreat his hand, nor stop touching Arthur all together. It was addictive almost, and Merlin just blamed it on the fever seeping through his body, his veins.

He cupped one of Arthur's cheeks, marveling at the way it felt - so right, but it was so... not wrong, but unusual. They had never been quite touchy with each other - even though Merlin wasn't exactly against being touchy with people, Arthur seemed to be. And he couldn't help but wonder; if anybody saw them like that, especially with Merlin being shirtless, what would they think?

Merlin retreated his hands and instead wrapped them back around Arthur.  
Yet, there was no helping the daydreaming anymore. He couldn't help recalling the pictures of Arthur's almost golden hair, and the way even his skin seemed to be made of gold, gold to Merlin, and Merlin alone.

Or he just wanted this sight to be for him alone - Arthur belonged to Gwen, he knew that well enough.  
Even though it suddenly had the audacity to hurt.

He was really just struggling with his fever. Of course.   
Then, Arthur stirred in his sleep, groaning a little what made Merlin sigh in return.   
"You're awake too?" the prince muttered, and for no reason, his quiet, raspy morning voice sent a shiver down the black haired's back.   
"Yeah. Not happy about that though," he laughed then, caughing right after that, feeling Arthur slightly pat his back.  
"I can understand that, I think."  
"I guess we'll have to change the bandage, right?" the sorcerer then sighed, but despite the truth in what he had just said, just cuddled further into the soft warmth of his friend.

"Maybe it's not too bad yet, we could go and wash your tunic first. Or even move a little on our way back to Camelot," Arthur offered at that before he leaned out of the hug, or whatever it was at that point - or he at least tried to do so.

Merlin couldn't help it - it was like a reflex when his hands shot up, grabbing Arthur by the arms, pulling him right back in place, whining out a little "no".  
He blushed immediately when he realized how that sounded, how touch-starved he looked, but Arthur didn't judge him. Or at least didn't say anything, and saved that for later or something.  
"Merlin," his voice sounded pressured, as if there was something weighing him down, "get up, you big baby. Didn't know you were so much into cuddling."

Deciding to take the chance and just get out of the embarrassing situation - even though there was no real hurtful tease in the prince's voice despite the way his manservant had embarrassed himself, Merlin almost shot right back up, stretching as far as he could.  
"Well, I have my love language. And since there needs to be love, you don't experience it."

Arthur's breathy laugh when he sat up himself made Merlin laugh again, shaking his head.  
"I could try... wait a moment," he said then, looking for his tunic, reaching for it and taking it when he was able to do so.  
" _Please_ don't freak out if this works," he hissed then, and Arthur shivered when he realized what this was about, what his friend was going to try - no matter what, though, if it worked, that was a good sign that Merlin was getting better.

He grabbed the fabric harder, focusing on it as he numbered the spell underneath his breath.  
His magic responded, pulsed inside of him - pulsing in his fingertips, his heart pumping it everywhere through him.  
He smiled and _felt_ his eyes flash golden, felt the magic that had build up at his fingers leave him.

"It worked!" Arthur commented, sounding _way_ too enthusiastic and glad about it to be true, making Merlin wonder if he wasn't actually dreaming.  
"It looks just like it did before. That's..."  
He shook his head, the first thing Merlin saw when he looked around, and he worryingly bit his lower lip. 

  
"I can... I could stop using magic around you, if that makes you more comfortable," he muttered, looking at the tunic as he himself felt satisfied about the result of it, "so I don't rub it in your face."  
There was a sigh from Arthur's side right when Merlin tried to put his clothes on himself, flinching when he stretched a little too far.

Suddenly the blond shifted from his spot, and as far as Merlin could tell, he was now sitting right in front of him - no, he even had come so close that he put his legs on either side of Merlin's.  
"You're an idiot," he said, grabbing the material himself, his legs touching Merlin's in such a delicate way that it made the black haired shiver.  
He pulled it back off, and now the sorcerer saw his face, the exasperated look.

Exasperated, but in a different way than what he thought.  
"Ar- Sire, what..."  
The legs touching his applied more pressure, and he couldn't help but gasp, blushing a little.  
"Stop calling me sire. This isn't- we're not- Merlin..."  
He took another breath, and started again, fiddling with the tunic, starting to help Merlin into it.  
"I don't want you to hide it," he started, and Merlin's head spun, the touch too much and those words making his breath hitch.

It was surreal. So surreal.   
Extremely surreal.   
"Am I dreaming?" he asked then, and the touch became even more real as Arthur was getting done with his clothes, but the blond just smiled.  
"No, you're not."  
Arthur was done, but he didn't leave his spot. No, instead Merlin felt like the touch intensified even more, and it drove the sorcerer mad - his hands shot up to grab the prince's thighs, Arthur shivering in return.

"You're close," the sorcerer muttered then, blinking a little perplex, gulping heavily.  
"Too close?"  
"I don't know."  
Arthur left his personal space, and Merlin couldn't help but breathe out, gasping again as he realized what the heck just happened between them.

If he had said no - if he had said that he liked Arthur that close, because he _did_ \- would that have had a different outcome?  
"Maybe we really should get a little closer back to Camelot," the blond suddenly started, gathering some of the things they scattered over their staying place, "I guess that the knights will come back into this direction."

"Oh, definitely," the servant agreed then, chuckling slightly at he struggled to get up.  
He hadn't tried standing in such a long time, relying on Arthur carrying him. His side would've made him collapse anyways, at least in the beginning.

Now he grabbed the rock and the tree closest to him, the surfaces hurting underneath his fingernails.  
He prepped himself up, his side stinging and pulsing, seemingly trying to get him back down.  
Arthur must be doing something that really took his attention, since Merlin knew he wasn't supposed to stand up. But honestly, he was tired of feeling so useless - no matter how much it hurt, how the pain ran down his shaking legs as if the wound was expanding down to there.

He groaned, but Merlin actually made it, suddenly standing with his fingers carved into the wood of that tree, scratches on the rock.  
Standing was weird now. On his own two legs, in such a pain that he groaned again, holding his side sheepishly.

"You're really just a dumb idiot. Merlin, it's been like three days since you've been stabbed! Sit your arse back down!" Arthur growled, walking towards him with those almost threatening, big steps.  
"I don't think I can sit back down. It'll hurt more than getting up and standing, probably."

Upon hearing this, Arthur just picked him back up in the bridal style that made Merlin blush madly - and it was almost usual, the way they fit together now.  
"Well, you can't walk, but we'll have to walk a bit. If you may look around, you'll see that I packed all of our stuff. Except for this," the prince started explaining, smirking about the topic before he leaned down and picked up his cape.

"I just used your bag for my chainmail. I hope that's okay. Although I do wonder how it can hold so many things at once."  
"It might be enchanted," Merlin laughed dryly, leaning a little against the other man, still wondering about what this guy was doing for him - keeping his biggest secrets at his own risk, carrying him and their stuff around, ignoring the differences in their status.

"Thank you, Arthur. I don't think I've said that those last days," he suddenly said, not exactly knowing where he was actually getting that from - but he did, and it felt right to do so.  
It caught the soon-to-be-king off guard, and Merlin couldn't help but wonder why.  
The moment of doing it, maybe that was the cause of it?

Arthur grinned at him, and it all seemed full nice and safe, until suddenly, his face fell.  
"Merlin, I-" he started, biting his bottom lip, until he froze in the next moment.

"There are other people, somewhere close. Most likely bandits. Watch out."


	7. Chapter 7

"Let me look," Merlin muttered them, lifting himself up a little in the strong arms of his prince, as he had to admit.

"Look? What do you- ah. Ah, with your magic, that thing?" Arthur then wondered, and the servant nodded, relaxing his muscles a little.   
Merlin sighed and lifted his head a little, feeling Arthur's heavy glare in his face, on his eyes - he must be watching him, waiting for the gold flashing in his eyes.

Despite being so intently watched, it didn't feel bad - it really didn't. Not when knowing that Arthur didn't really judge him for it.

This time, he didn't even need a spell - his vision just paced on, quickening to where the noises had come from, where Arthur was glaring to.   
He had really hoped for it to be the knights, and not some bandits. Druids would've been fine too, literally anything. But the sight made him lose all of his hope regarding that.

His conscious came flying back into where he was in Arthur's hold, the sight of those bandits ravaging everything coming across them, and even seemed to maybe have heard them or anything since they had definitely headed to where Merlin and Arthur were.

"Bandits, yes. They're coming towards us," Merlin then explained, yet realized that the prince must have seen the expression in his face and figured out that they had to leave.   
"They're probably searching for us, what means we have to be extra careful."   
"I could distract the-"   
"Merlin, me knowing about your magic does not mean that you have to - or are allowed to, for that matter - do everything now," Arthur commanded almost, still walking away from where the bandits seemed to be coming.

The sigh that came in return was long and agonizing, Merlin slumping a little in his arms like a stubborn child that just got its candy denied again.   
"Then, at least let me-" the sorcerer started, but then just bit his lip, mumbling a spell before Arthur could stop him, putting on a hand over Merlin's mouth as a consequence.

Wind blew around them, rustling through puddles of leaves, picking them up, taking a little dust with it, almost immediately hiding every hint of them ever having been there.   
"Don't overwork yourself, dumbass," Arthur hissed, still walking rather fast despite the grown human in his arms.

"I'm fine," he muttered against the hand, then grinned cunningly.  
He muttered another spell, the hand on his mouth not exactly stopping anything he wanted to stop.  
"Merlin!" he exclaimed, loud yet quiet, and there suddenly was a even louder, horrendous crack in one of the trees, even making Arthur flinch.

A branch fell, and they suddenly heard loud voices, some fearful, some rather angry, nevertheless agitated in general.  
"That should buy us some time," Merlin whined almost, his eyes fluttering shut, only to be opened by the pure power of will.  
"Idiot. Why would you- for the love of God, Merlin, don't do this again," he heard coming from the prince, and felt how his grip seemed to have tightened. There was fear in his voice, fear of _loss_ , and it made the sorcerer swoon a little.

Arthur? Openly fearing his loss like this? Almost impossible, if he hadn't just heared it with his own ears.  
"That branch was fucking huge. You might've hit something or someone, from what they were saying."  
His prince was still muttering unhappily, yet taking the change to almost run and do that with some curves, some edges in their way, the lake still rather close to them.

The sorcerer huffed and shook his head, letting it fall back against the soft material of Arthur's shirt when he had the chance. He heard the heart beat a fast pace, almost jumping right out of his chest.  
Merlin did it again, Arthur saw the gold in his eyes, he was sure, and he looked forward - back, for that matter - seeing whether the bandits were still so close, threatening to come close to them once again.

It looked good; his prince seemed to have been right. Yes, he was- there was a wagon kind of thing, something they used to gather their stuff somewhere, squished underneath the big branch Merlin didn't think he could've broken off some healthy tree like that. At least not while his stab wound was still so bad that he felt it pulse with every movement, every blinking of his eyes.

"They're trying to get their important stuff from under the branch," he informed the blond man, who was still getting forward as fast as before, though his breath truly got a little rough now. "We're getting away."  
The breathy laugh his prince let out was everything Merlin needed to chuckle and let unconsciousness come a little closer, now that he knew that Arthur would most likely be safe, and he could put his magic to rest for a little moment.

"Stay awake, Merlin," he heard then, and blinked, raising a hand to put it on Arthur's shoulder.  
"Well, that's it with my magic for now."  
"Shhhh, that's okay, it's okay. Just stay awake, yes?"  
"Mmh-hmm," Merlin yawned, flexing his hands and unflexing them once again as he wondered how far they would go - when and where would Arthur decide to stay, where he'd think it to be safe.

Merlin spaced off, if he was honest. He was awake, his mind just wandered.  
Didn't wander far, though - started with Merlin and ended with Arthur.  
His face was everything the sorcerer could see in front of his eyes, adrenaline building off that he didn't even think he had.

He felt how tense Arthur was, how the adrenaline was still working within his veins - Merlin wondered, how long would it take him to calm down again, after all of this?

Suddenly, he didn't know how long Arthur had been running around carrying him, he felt the ground against his back as he was slowly set down, bushes rustling next to them as Arthur must have arranged something.  
It awoke Merlin for real - the haste feeling of Arthur's working, the way he was glancing around like an animal that was hunted by the knights himself.

"I never realized- Merlin," the blond started, and it confused the black-haired, the way he was so frantic and trying to put something together, something so important that it just wouldn't bind together in words.   
"Merlin," he whispered again, and his breath hitched, his hands clenching and unclenching.   
"Merlin."

The sorcerer waited, he himself finding his own pulse to be even quicker while watching Arthur like this, disheveled and confused.   
"There was threat from behind us, the bandits - then your wound, your fucking wound, and now you're almost overusing your magic-" Arthur finally started, biting his lip, nibbling on it in a way that made Merlin want to kiss him there, make him retreat those destroying teeth.

"I can't deal with this anymore. Merlin, you - please, I'd never- I can't watch you disobey and put yourself in danger, not one single more time."  
"Arthur, calm down," Merlin hushed him then, a hand on the blond man's cheek, stroking it with his thumb, just a little, just oh so subtly.   
"You need to promise me," he muttered, leaning down towards Merlin, coming so close that it was almost meant to seem like they were about to kiss.

Tension stroke Merlin, making him hiss just the slightest bit, something Arthur couldn't even see in his escalating worry.   
"You want to know what you mean to me, Merlin?" he asked, breathless, and the prince leaned in just a little more, as if he was getting tired.   
"I'll show you, I'll show you. I can't take it - I can't let you risk it again without having shown you."  
"Arthur," Merlin whispered again, the skin hot against his fingers, his whole hand, a blush settling on the handsome features.

"Merlin," he breathed again, averting his gaze for a moment, before he shook his head.  
"Arthur, calm down, it's-" the sorcerer started to say, when suddenly, soft yet bruising lips came crashing down on his own.

Warmth spread across his face, his neck, his ears, just everything - it exploded like a bomb and made him feel all ticklish.  
Arthur was kissing him.  
Those soft lips on his own were Arthur's.  
Arthur was kissing him.

He was about to lean back, he must've been about to, the pressure on his lips had become less evident, when Merlin returned the kiss.

Now Merlin was kissing Arthur. His prince. His future king. His _master_.  
There was a groan, or a sigh, or maybe a happy sob - Merlin couldn't quite tell, but he swallowed the sound, opening his lips a little to taste, feel, make more, moving them in a slow, small motion together with Arthur himself.

The firm hands on him, the hand Merlin had used to cup Arthur's cheek - it all suddenly served only to deepen the kiss, only to make sure that they couldn't separate, not even if anyone else tried to make them.

They broke the kiss, initiating it at the same time, and both of them panted, their eyes focusing and unfocusing all the same.  
"Arthur..."  
"Merlin... I'm sorry."  
"Wh-"  
"Wait- wait, you actually kissed back," the prince then muttered, trailing a finger over his lips, definitely not accidentally distracting Merlin with the motion.

"But... Gwen?" the sorcerer only then got to ask, squirming in the grab, yet still watching his possible lover's face.  
"Merlin, we- maybe, there was something at one point, but there's nothing anymore. We... we settled on being friends."  
The black haired let his head fall back onto the ground, sighing for a very short moment.  
"Can I kiss you again? Oh by the love of- I'm sorry about just kissing y-"

Not it was Merlin who had leaned forward, kissing Arthur from his own initiative now. His hands now were at his shoulders, pushing Arthur on his back, slowly but surely.  
They retreated from kissing just to breathe, and yet they couldn't do it, they stayed breathless.  
Merlin leaned forward again, fisting the fabric of Arthur's clothes.  
"This a fitting answer?"  
"Are you sure it's not just the fever making you do this?" Arthur muttered into his ear then, kissing the other man on the cheek, his jawline, just before he kissed him on his lips again.  
Short, sweet and haste.

"I feel as mentally clear as ever just right now," Merlin murmured back before chuckling, "and now that I've kissed you without asking first, too, were even."  
Arthur laughed back, still so very close to the other man, not being able to resist kissing him another time.

"I never thought you'd ever-" Merlin started, then coughed a little, only to feel the warm touch of Arthur's arms wrapping more around him.   
"I never thought you'd ever, too," he mimicked, yet staying completely honest and open.   
"There are so many things I needed to hide from you for your greater good," the sorcerer mumbled, planting another kiss on the inviting lips, "I had some idea of how it would go for all of them, but never for this one."

Arthur laughed, their noses touching slightly, making both of them giggle on top of it again.  
"Tell me about them," he then whispered, kissing Merlin's neck, liking how he squirmed a little and giggled again.  
"Eh," the reply came, and Arthur kissed his jawline, moving his fingers a little in a soft tickle that made the other man squirm again.

"Last chance," the blond playfully threatened then, not being able to stop touching Merlin now that he felt like he was allowed to.  
But the black haired remained silent, shifting a little more into the touch.  
"Mmh," he sighed, his heavy eyes looking up to Arthur.  
"Remember the weird, old sorcerer?"  
"Of course I do," Arthur answered then, and suddenly everything dawned on him - of course, it made sense. Now he knew why the man looked so familiar.

"That was _you_!"  
"Well, it was worth everything to be able to insult your father like that," Merlin commented then, getting violently attacked by being tickled as a response, Arthur teasing him.  
"You hit me in the head!"  
"Couldn't have you actually recognize me. You _had_ to be smart when you _weren't_ supposed to," the snarky reply came once again, even though he sounded breathless and still squirmed around and giggled like a little child.

Merlin rolled away to his healthy side, kicking Arthur with his legs, tears of laughter in his eyes.  
This was nice.


	8. Chapter 8

Merlin awoke to Gwaine's voice.   
Yes, Gwaine's voice.   
It startled him as much as he was glad to hear it - the problem was, though, that the last thing he remembered was falling asleep in Arthur's arms, the idiot prince snoring a little as he had drifted away first. 

But now, he still felt that trademark warmth with him, around him, just everywhere, and it would never bother him on normal terms.  
Right now, though, he had heard Gwaine's voice.  
And even though Merlin cared less about what they'd think than he thought he would, but Arthur was a different kind of type.

Or at least Merlin thought so - at least Merlin thought so.  
When he wiggled around a little, though, he felt Arthur's arms tighten around his waist, something that made him sigh happily.  
This morning though, Merlin couldn't move more than try to squirm around a little - his head seemed to be ten times bigger and twenty times heavier, pulsing and hurting all the way.

He was overheating as he simultaneously felt way too cold, and his side hurt way too much.  
With every breath it stung in a worse way, the more his senses started working better, the more he just felt uncomfortable.  
"Arthur? Merlin?" Percival then called out, and he felt the blond man shifted a little, clearing his throat.  
"Over here!" he hissed, and Merlin couldn't help but blink dumbfoundedly against Arthur's chest. "Arthur?" he whispered, and knew that even if he tried for a louder voice, it wouldn't work. 

"Shhh, it's okay," the answer came back, and Merlin couldn't help but blush a little. Geez, so Arthur knew he was awake, knew that they were still cuddling and was still okay with others seeing them like this?   
"Sire!" Lancelot suddenly sighed in relief, being closer than Merlin had thought, and probably coming from where Arthur was lying. 

There were light strokes on Merlin's back, and he didn't want to fall asleep again - he didn't want his lights to go out. But with those soft strokes, the warmth and the welcome feeling of the knights being there to protect them too, he couldn't help it anymore.   
This damn wound. 

Arthur made sure that Merlin was falling asleep again - he had seen how pale he was, how deep the shadows underneath his eyes were. Of course it was like that - his wound must be turning him mad by now. 

He couldn't help but gulp a little when the knights came from behind him, Lancelot not taking a moment to kneel down next to Arthur and Merlin, touching the pale, sweaty forehead.   
But he knew that Gwaine was there too, and to hell with him and his jokes - there was something to come, Arthur knew that well enough. 

"Is he okay?" Elyan asked then, after a moment of silence and the knights settling down with their own stuff so they could rush to the future king and his manservant.   
"I have taken care of his wound, but it must be starting to actually get bad right now. Heal a little, maybe."  
Everyone looked so worried, and Arthur felt relieved about it - it meant that he wasn't the only one worrying his arse off over the whole thing that was happening.

"Gaius gave us some more things to help Merlin," Elyan then started explaining, grabbing for a bag and showing it Arthur then.  
"Perfect," the prince sighed and gently took the cape off, putting it to the side.  
He untangled himself from Merlin, not missing the way everyone looked down at where they were so close to each other, only to then lift the magically cleaned tunic up and show them the bandage.

"That looks nasty," Gwaine commented, and Arthur was actually happy about his uncharacteristic silence coming to an end.  
"Lancelot, you have a fair share of knowledge about this whole wound thing, do you?" Arthur then asked, getting up just so he could lean Merlin up against a tree a little.

"I think so," the other man said in his humble way, tilting his head a little, and Arthur sighed. "How about we get a little bit of food done, and you take a look at Merlin's wound?"  
The brunette nodded then, and even though Arthur hated having to let the unconscious Merlin go and not be able to touch him anymore, he knew that it was for the greater good.  
Lancelot had a better knowledge of this, and they wouldn't get distracted like they would with Arthur tending to the wound.

So he let Merlin go when he was sure that Lancelot had a steady hand on him, and walked towards the others as he tried to pat his hair back down, just so he wouldn't look all too sleep ridden.   
When he was now confronted with Gwaine as they were preparing a little fire to cook some food, he felt the tension of Gwaine wanting so much to be Gwaine, that he ended up just being Gwaine. 

"Well, princess, have you finally found your prince? Didn't think you'd finally realize how much you've been heart-eyeing Merlin all this time."  
"Ser Gwaine, do I have to remind you of dear Merlin's status? You're being ridiculous all over the place."  
The cunning expression in the other knight's face made Arthur realize that his wording might not have been the best.

"Of course I know about his status. How about... It was royal consort, wasn't it?"  
Arthur expected Gwaine and the others to laugh at his defeat, even expected the way Percival managed to choke on air from the shock of Gwaine's joke. He didn't expect himself to madly blush, though. He definitely didn't expect that.

And it was so obvious that, yes, basically that's what Merlin was now - and he wanted to throw himself off a cliff or something when Gwaine picked up on that as well.   
"Oh! So he really is now!" he almost yelled out, grinning from one ear to another.   
The punch Gwaine got for that was definitely even less than what he deserved for making Arthur blush and grumble like that. Definitely. 

"He's not, get over yourself," the prince then hissed, throwing his hands up into the air in annoyance.   
"Aww, sire, you can admit your feelings, at least with us," Elyan suddenly joined in, the grin that Arthur was getting setting fire underneath his fingers.  
"No, don't join in on his idiocy-"  
"Oh, what do you mean? Idiocy? He's just stating the obvious," Percival then joined in, too, and Arthur threw the first thing in his hand, what happened to be a branch from a tree, right into their direction.

"Are you guys okay over there?" Lancelot asked then from a little more far away from them, still with Merlin, and Arthur made sure to avoid to look anywhere towards his servant at all.  
"Everything's fine!" Gwaine called back, grinning at Arthur from the side. "We have better things to do than this nonsense."

——————————————

After they had set up a little camp, something more comfortable and useful, and something that was actually equipped with food and blankets now, they settled the still unconscious Merlin to lie by the fire, huddled in a proper blanket this time.

"The wound really isn't harmless," Lancelot suddenly started, and everyone looked up from their personal silence and possible daydreams.  
"But I do have to say, our prince did quite the good job on treating it, from what I've seen."  
There was a little clapping, something quiet yet teasing from the knights, something that had Arthur rolling his eyes at them. 

"Well, yes, of course," he waved off, trying to internally wave off the fact that he had specifically sat down right next to Merlin once again, one hand always close to where the other one was sleeping soundly.  
Suddenly there was a hand at his wrist, the one close to Merlin, and he heared a small groan coming from the sorcerer.

"Arthur?" Merlin slurred then, seemingly searching for something on his arm, even though there was nothing to search for.  
And the prince couldn't help but blush like an idiot, and suddenly, it felt way more private than it should feel.

He sighed then, knew that the others were glaring at them, and nevertheless, he leaned down a little and softened his voice.  
"I'm here. Are you?" Arthur asked then, putting his free hand on Merlin's.  
"Mmmh... somethin's smellin' good."  
"Of course you would wake up from that. Typical you," the Pendragon then said, chuckling at the whole situation.

"Shuddup," the slurred voice tried to clap back, only to then move around a little, "everyone of you would wake up from it too..."  
Arthur couldn't help but smile softly at the realization that Merlin was being all this gentle and open despite knowing that the knights were really there.

"He's got a point. For Gwaine, it wouldn't even need more than a stupid apple to be loud in a situation where we had to be silent," Percival then berated, making the man in question roll his eyes angrily.  
"Oh, come on. I couldn't have known that it would be so loud."  
"You're just an idiot," Elyan sighed then, starting to pour the soup into smaller bowls that he used to give to the others around the fire.

"That's so rude!"  
Everyone laughed, even Merlin chuckled a little, before the tugging on Arthur's sleeve became more prominent.  
"Could you... help me sit up? I'd love to eat somethin' too," he asked all nice and friendly, wincing when Arthur shifted with his hands, though.

The blond did quick work of it, having learned a little bit of knowledge on how to get at this type of situation by now.  
Yet, this time, Merlin couldn't stay sitting up straight - he'd fall over to one side, and then flinch violently, making him groan in pain.  
So Arthur, once again, decided that it was time to not care anymore, and just settled Merlin so that he leaned against the broad shoulder of the Pendragon.

"Aww," Gwaine dared to tease, winking at Arthur who glared daggers back at him, but Merlin didn't seem to mind or couldn't find the effort to do so. "Here you go," Arthur said, poking the sorcerer at the side with the bowl of soup itself, until the black haired raised his hands and took it while Arthur went down on his own bowl.

They went quiet for the next minutes, and it was actually kind of nice. It was warm and they were together, and he felt Merlin right against his side.  
It was quiet until there was the sound of a bowl being dropped to the floor, a hissed "fuck" coming from mentioned side. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Merlin pleaded almost, his voice sounding erratic as he picked the bowl back up.  
"There was nothin' in th' bowl anymore, but now I dropped it an-"

"Shush, you little baby," Arthur jumped in, picking up the thing for him to put it to the side together with his, "you're talking even more nonsense than you usually do."  
Merlin seemed to have gone quiet, what then worried the prince immediately, only for him to realize that he must have fallen asleep once again, completely slumped against his body.

"Ah," Arthur sighed, "he must be getting used to sleeping by my side."  
The damage was done before he realized it, and he knew that it was when the glares he was getting made him blush just the slightest, little bit.  
"Come on Arthur, what do you feel for Merlin? I can see your red cheeks through the damn fire," Gwaine then brought up, yet more quiet and sincere, almost as if the edge of tease in there was just force of habit.

"That's really none of your concern," he sighed, yet felt his edge fade away, too as he slid one arm around Merlin's body, holding him up.  
"But I guess that there are more feelings than I should have for him."


End file.
